Oh, Hi There, I Can Explain
by devorador
Summary: Modern AU. Sansa and Joffrey never thought the day would come, sitting across from their families, stone faced, having to explain to them that she didn't want to be a perfect politician's wife and he didn't want to inherit his Grandfather's business and be a ruthless tycoon. Yes, they loved this eccentric town they holed themselves into, and indeed, that tree did own itself.
1. a cat's wake does them in

Chapter One: A Cat's Wake Does Them In

A/N: Hola. Hope y'all like the story.

/./././././././

Joffrey Baratheon cursed his luck. He supposed he had Paprika to thank for that. Though not overtly a believer of the occult and supernatural, Joffrey's arm still tingled with goosebumps just at the thought of attending the wake.

"Psst, Joff." spoke a voice from beyond the crack of the posh studio door. (He was _supposed_ to be taking calligraphy classes, to make his signature more fitting to that of the heir of a multi-billion dollar industry that he still had no idea what it exactly did. Joff was only sure that his family was greedy enough to have their hands in most honey pots and invested in a lot of lucrative operations).

"It's safe. The proff had to, uh, excuse himself." yelled out the blonde towards the crack, coaxing her into the room.

"What did you do to the poor man this time?" fumed Sansa Stark, stomping into the space, her face red with indignation, matching the shade of her hair.

"Hey, it wasn't as bad as what I did to my manners teacher." Joffrey grumbled, as he got up from the ostentatious white couch in the otherwise sleek and sparsely decorated modern room. Joff hated spaces like these, feeling they were unwelcoming and it made him despised them more to know that it was a trend his Mother started among the rich, idle, trophy wives.

"I do believe he started seeing a shrink for that incident." commented Sansa, readjusting the strap of her duffel bag, hitching up to redistribute the weight of the bulging bag better on her shoulder. "_Your_ shrink, to be exact." she added as a side note, smirking in his direction.

"How the fuck do you know that? You using your family's voodoo I'm-a-politician-that-can-charm-anything-out-of-anyone powers again?"

Sansa scoffed. "For your information, it's called being friendly, and second off, you'd know it too if you'd stop being an ass for just a second and oh, I don't know, start a conversation with your shrink's receptionist."

"Why bother when I can just ask you?" he replied cheekily, grabbing Sansa's elbow as he transferred her duffel bag onto his shoulders with the intention of leading her out and showing her he could be a non-douchey gentleman when he staggered unexpectedly under the deceiving weight of the bag.

"Shit, girl. What do you possibly need as a choreographer that your bag weighs more than my 'Dad?' " Here Joff used air quotes to refer to his... he really didn't quite know what to refer to Robert Baratheon as. It was an unspoken, generally understood (unless you were an idiot like Robert Baratheon was), deep, dark, way deep in the closet gossip that the three Baratheon Children inherited none of their father's dominant coloring and instead, favored their Mother's fair looks and that of her not so secret lover and twin, Jaime.

Sansa gave him an offended look as she none too gently patted him on the back and proceeded to list what necessary items she carried around. "Well, I have my pointe shoes, my ballet shoes, my character shoes, tap shoes, those stomp-y boots for that one fierce song, a first aid kit, my comfy dance sweater, regular sneakers, that stupid outfit I had to wear for my how-to-be-a-lady class that I just escaped from, and an appropriately somber black outfit for the wake we are going to be late for with all your dawdling."

Joffrey groaned. He'd almost forgotten about that stupid wake what with tormenting his calligraphy tutor and trying to diffuse Sandor's mounting suspicion of Joffrey's recent behavior. Sandor Clegane was a great companion that Joffrey considered to be more of a good friend than just being the bodyguard his family hired. Granted, Joffrey wasn't stupid enough to consider them B.F.F.F.F.s, what with Sandor's gruff demeanor and monosyllabic answers, but he liked to think that they were at least burger eating friends (Joff wasn't even sure if Clegane had 'friends' apart from him. Sure, he had his security business, King's Guard, but he was under the impression that his fellow guards were...just fellow guards. Besides, Sandor _totally_ had a soft spot for him, if sneaking Joffrey food was anything to go by. His Mother was on a fish diet and thought it best if the whole family participated). Joffrey had fed some bullshit excuse to Sandor that really didn't seem to convince him, but at least got the guard to leave Joff alone at his lessons and take the rest of the day off to do 'brood-y things' (Joff really didn't know what Sandor did on his off time, or if he had any to begin with. The man practically shadowed him 24/7).

"I didn't dawdle, it just took me a bit longer to get rid of the stupid tutor since you forbade me my usual methods." he pouted as the two ambled down the stairs towards Sansa's square, toaster shaped Element.

"Joffrey, a paintball gun is cruel and unusual...and painful as fuck." she added after a pause, rubbing at her jaw, remembering phantom bruises. "Besides, just do what I do and impeccably finish your lessons swiftly so that you can leave early and no one will be the wiser as to where you disappear off to afterwards."

She looked at him pointedly. This was not the first time Joffrey's shenanigans had almost outed their secret double life (Joffrey still considered it a 'their' thing despite Sansa having done it much longer and inviting him into the other-life fold recently). Some of the tutors and professors Joffrey went to, to become a 'renaissance man,' had called his Grandfather in tears to complain what a wild child he was. Thankfully his Mother, ever the coddler, vehemently defended him, stating that he needed room to grow, that he was experimenting, that they were imbeciles beneath him, anything really, to preserve her angelic image of her first born. Joffrey just shrugged Sansa's pointed glares and decided not to tell her about the Hound, and _his_ growing suspicion of what Joffrey did with all that free time after he shooed Sandor away before his lessons and proceeded to cut them short by making the tutors leave in tears before the learning could even begin.

She was the more paranoid of the two, guarding their freedom fiercely, as it was a time for her to be free from the overwhelming family expectations of being a perfect lady. She wasn't stupid. She knew that her parents, though meaning the best, were grooming her to be the perfect wife to a politician, much like her Mother. The Starks came from a long line of senators, and governors, and the like and it was a road all the Stark children were expected to follow. (Though if Joffrey was to be honest, Ned and Catelyn Stark were going to have one heck of a hard time telling that to their other daughter, Arya. Already a rebel, Joff knew that she had no intentions of going into any office or diplomacy, much less be the doting supportive wife to one, and saw her frequent the record shop down the street to drool over the Gibsons guitars. Arya got off easy, he knew, because Sansa played the perfect lady and gracefully carried the burden of being a daughter of a senator in front of the media with seemingly minimal effort. And if she got a little hysterical about their secret life coming to light, well he most certainly wouldn't begrudge her anything after all the pressure her parents, society and even herself placed upon herself).

Sansa made haste on the familiar drive to the town they called home (because the cold sprawling mansion he was forced to live in with his never present family never felt as welcoming and cozy as the place he got with Sansa in this quaint, if not eccentric town). She parked the car in their driveway, passing by the fish shaped mail box and instead of climbing the three steps towards their red front door to search for the key under the turtle, veered left and pushed her way past the shrubberies separating their abode from the neighbor's yard choked in gnomes. Joffrey followed her towards the entrance, the facade of the house always reminding him of a red barn, and stooped low to duck into the entrance behind Sansa.

Though Sansa thought their neighbors' love to be sweet, Joffrey always got a kick out of their eccentricities, especially seeing their neighbor taking the cat out for a walk. Walking the cat part alone was hilarious, but he took delight in the massive height difference between the couple. Alex was akin to the Slenderman, all limbs and height, but pulling the look off with dark shades and a bowler hat. Opposing that was his wife Gwendolyn, short, rotund, and just so darn adorable. Alex's love for his wife was so great that they had their house tailor-made for his wife's short stature: Small doorways, lower counter tops, the whole nine yard. Joffrey always had the feeling he was entering a hobbit hole whenever he ducked through the entrance to attend the numerous tea parties Gwen threw.

The interior of the house was more somber than what Joffrey was used to. The home still looked as it usually did, with the myriads of doilies covering every surface, yet over that, Gwen had placed yards of black lace to dampen the cheery flower print of her furniture. He navigated around the mountains of framed pictures depicting the deceased and went to go give his condolences to the couple, watching Sansa head towards the bathroom to change into her attire to act as the hostess of the wake, Alex and Gwen too emotionally spent to really mingle with the masses. He spotted Alex in the kitchens with his wife, both huddled under the cabinetry, gathering up items that belonged to the deceased.

"Al, Gwen," Joff called out tentatively, feeling like an intruder on their intimate moment. "Hey, sorry we're late. Sansa's out and about directing the guests and where to put the food. You guys ok?"

Gwen turned in her husband's arm to regard Joff behind puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Her already raspy voice sounded even more hoarse as she replied.

"Oh sugah. You two are so sweet. I knew you were going to be great neighbors the day y'all moved in and the both of ya brought us those lemon bars." Alex nodded in agreement. "We're okay dah-ling. Just taking the time to reminisce. You go on ahead, enjoy the food and remember Pap..." Another bought of sobs stopped her as she buried her face into Alex's leather coat. Knowing that the two needed some alone time, he left in hopes of finding Sansa and helping her in greeting the guests.

He spotted her by the door, in a black one-piece dress, the vintage lace giving her the perfect air of a 50's house wife in mourning.

"Thank you for coming, food goes on the table in the living room and Al and Gwen want us to swap stories and remember him fondly." were Sansa's impeccably polite words toward the steady stream of people by the entrance. Joffrey stepped behind Sansa, hand on the small of her back. She faced him then, sadness flowing from eyes glistening with unshed tears and leaned back into him.

"Hey, go rest, mingle, eat, whatever. Leave this to me," Joff whispered. "I know you loved him the most outside of his family and I'm sure you have the best tales."

"Thank you." Sansa choked out as she pecked his cheek and made her way towards a group of townies surrounding the piano, deep in reminiscent conversation.

Joffrey sighed, running a hand through his short cropped hair and prepared to face the denizens of a town he called home. He was amazed at the tight knit relationship of the town and the length they went for a member of the community. It warmed his heart every time he thought on the immense joy and comfort the town had also given Sansa and him (That and the entertainment. The town folk were truly unique and a character of their own world). He looked down the queue to garner if it really was, in fact, the entire town that showed up when, in the back, he spotted the unmistakable looming height and grotesque countenance of the Hound: The supposed bodyguard he thought he'd fooled into taking the day off. Joffrey wished he was mistaking him for someone else, but the distinctive burns covering half of Sandor's face were unmistakable. Joff shook the hand of the man he was greeting a little too enthusiastically as he asked him to direct the rest of the crowd please as he had to excuse himself to the restroom. George, the produce man, jovially agreed and took up his new duties with gusto as Joffrey scampered away to find Sansa and beat a hasty retreat, preferably before the Hound spotted them.

/././././././

Sandor Clegane did not make it a habit to care or a give a damn about what his clients did in their spare time he wasn't watching over them. However, with how close he'd gotten to the boy and the begrudging friendship he formed with him, Sandor was concerned for his charge. And thus he found himself in this god-forsaken town on the edge of civilization despite the fact that Joffrey tried to rid him for the rest of the day to 'relax.' Ha! Sandor couldn't remember the last time he took a day off for himself.

He started noticing the boy's odd behavior beginning three years ago. He was concerned at first but ultimately didn't report his worries to Tywin as he could see that these changes were for the better. Sure, the Bafatheon/Lannister heir still acted like a dick, but it was a different kind of douchery from his past behavior. Sandor remembered the lad as a teen, uncontrollable, impossibly mean, demanding ridiculous things and having a conniption if things didn't go his way. Joff was still unapproachable and sarcastic, but his comments lost their barb and Sandor realized that he willingly went to every single one of his lessons. And that was the ultimate red flag. The brat Sandor recalled would _never_ voluntarily go to classes set up by his grandfather and had to be strong armed to them. True, Joffrey still tormented his teachers to quitting, but his pranks were tamer now, less vicious from the ones he played on past tutors.

The Hound also found it suspicious that all this started when Joffrey's engagement to that Stark girl was made public. Clegane knew that Robert always wanted to unite the two families, being old friends, more bindingly and thus declared that his son would marry Eddard Stark's daughter the minute she was born. True to his shitty nature, Joffrey was ruthless to the girl. He never actually laid his hand on her, but if all the sounds of shattering objects and cruel words seeping out from under the closed doors were any indication, the Hound didn't understand how the girl just didn't up and leave the bastard. When Sandor thought that things were truly heating up and started to worry for the safety of the girl and intervene, he noticed the changes. Sandor Clegane just brushed off the minute transformation, chalking it up to the the girl's sweet nature positively influencing the boy, but when he started to come back from lessons and 'dates' with the Stark girl covered in small cuts and burns, he was alarmed. But Sandor didn't want to raise the alarm, because Joffrey also came back from these sessions truly happy (No one in his family noticed, but spending the amount of time he did with the boy, Sandor knew if it was genuine or not, and it had truly been a while since he saw Joffrey show any kind of joy).

When asked about these wounds, Joffrey got extremely defensive. Sandor wanted to immediately investigate and follow the boy but he knew Joffrey was no fool. True to his heritage, the Baratheon (more Lannister) inherited his Grandfather's cunning and evaded all attempts at tailing him. But Sandor was a patient man, he let up on following him, taking Joffrey's bullshit excuses and took afternoons 'off,' lulling the boy into a false sense of security. Combined with Joff's dropped guard and how distracted he seemed to be today, Sandor was successfully able to follow Joffrey the moment he stepped into Sansa's passenger door.

He lost the two in the complicated maze-like roads of the town and stopped to ask directions. He found no one in the deserted streets until he finally spotted the town's lone market proprietor closing up shop at two in the afternoon. After a brief conversation with the man, it was Sandor's understanding that the entire town had gone off to a wake of a beloved community member that passed recently. The proprietor, who was apparently also the town mayor, invited him along to pay his respects. Sandor went along, figuring if the whole town was to be there, he'd most likely run into Joffrey and his companion.

Immediately upon his arrival, Sandor didn't know whether to laugh or be exasperated at discovering exactly whose wake they were attending. He, Sandor Clegane, feared ex-mafia hit man, the Hound with the gruesome face, was here to pay homage to a cat named Paprika. He was truly beginning to realize what an odd town and its inhabitants were (what with Ms. Christie, the dance studio owner, not so discreetly pinching his butt and fawning over him while the two town troubadours behind him argued over who had the right to sing on the corner of Cherry and Maple street), when he spotted Joff greeting the masses at the head of the line Sandor stood in.

He saw Joffrey noticing him from the corner of his eyes as he tried to bat away the dance teacher's hands away, deciding that he could afford to give the boy a head start as a courtesy to their friendship before he went after him.

/././././././

"Um, code red potato! Flaming Hot! We need to go NOW!" was Joff's desperate plea when he spotted Sansa among the crowd and none too gently tugged her into a more private corner to discuss matters at hand.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Sandor's here!" he all but yelled, his mounting panic making him sweat bullets.

"Oh, my damn. Please tell me this is a sick joke." breathed out Sansa, knowing it wasn't so, seeing how pale her friend's face was. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Ok, let's make a run for it. The pond should be a safe spot. No outsider knows about it and we can hide there 'til he gets tired of searching for us." Sansa nodded once more, though this time around, pleased with the impromptu plan.

"Too late, little bird," was the response that stopped the two dead in their track, and made Sansa burn red in anger. She hated that nickname he had given her. When Joffrey had begun 'courting' her, naturally, Sandor was there as the shadow to Joff. She had all but thought the man mute for all the conversation he didn't deign to have with her. But Joff looked up to him and, wanting to make a good impression, she played nice. That was when the hulking man started to call her 'little bird.' Finally fed up, Sansa asked him how the nickname came about. Sandor claimed that if she was going to chirp like a good little song bird in a cage, that was what he was going to call her. Needless to say, Sansa ignored and avoided the man from that day forth (She couldn't very well cuss him out as she wanted to, without breaking character and the need to do so had never quite left her).

Reigning in her irritation, she bit out angrily. "Straying far from your master's territory, aren't you? You have no business prying into other's affairs."

"I do if you two are sneaking around like criminals. And I answer to Tywin. You'd do best to remember that."

"Whoa whoa, wait." interjected Joff, to try to diffuse the tension. "You're gonna rat us out? Come on man! Not cool!" whined Joffrey and stomped his foot petulantly, akin to a 5 year old tantrum.

Sandor sighed. "What exactly am I going to rat out? That you two secretly go to... wakes thrown in a cat's honor?" Joff and Sandor shared looks that spoke to a deeper conversation when understanding dawned on both faces and the two men laughed boisterously.

"Ugh, boys." Sansa exclaimed exasperatedly, turning about to leave the explaining to Joffrey as she went to go pick up his abandoned duties by the entrance. They watched her go.

"So, spill." Sandor barked out as soon as she disappeared from view. Clegane was giving him his patented interrogation look and Joff knew that the Hound would sniff out the truth one way or another. He resigned himself to his fate and launched into their tale.

"Well, you see, I have a secret life as a jewelry maker in my spare time...quite, uh, a successful endeavor if my recent sales and commissions are anything to go by..."

/././././././

A/N: Hope this wasn't too much of a disappointment. Reviews are welcomed and see you next chappie!


	2. really, deers are the heinous ones

Chapter Two: Really, Deers are the Heinous Ones

A/N: Chappie two. Gonna try and update every Tuesday and Sunday. Wish me luck.

/././././././.

_ Three years ago..._

_Joffrey was livid. Not only were his Mother and Grandfather forcing him to go to this stupid charity event in some pretentious home on top of a mountain no less, he was to take the air-headed Stark girl with him. Inevitably, on this stormy, icy night, going up the damn mountain, they had gotten into an accident: The car Joffrey was driving got hit by a deer._

"Wait, wait, wait. You ran over a deer?" interrupted Sandor, disbelieving look on his face. Joff was not aware of his love for furry creatures that Sandor apparently harbored and filed the new tidbit about his friend away.

"No, no, I got hit _by_ a deer. The blasted thing rammed into the side of our car." Joffrey always got upset at having to defend himself on this matter. As if he was a bad driver, the absurdity. Cute little deer could be heinous too, what with their antlers and such. They did so much damage to cars.

_"I can NOT believe we just got hit by a deer!" was Joffrey's angry exclamation. He knew he'd be angrier too, if the situation wasn't just so absurd._

_ Sansa would've beeen amused about the fact as well, if it weren't for her slowly freezing limbs as they trudged back down the mountain towards the small town she suggested was nearby, to get help. Reception was spotty up in the high altitude, and the two had no choice but to abandon their car and head out._

_ "You seem cold there, you need a jacket?" Joff asked, stealing a glance towards the girl, hearing her teeth chatter like excited castanets. _

_ "Y..yes. That would be nice." was her grateful reply, throwing him a grateful and surprised look._

_ "Yeah, well too bad you only thought to wear a shawl tonight." he answered back disdainfully, quickening his steps so that he wouldn't have to deal with the tears he knew would come._

_/././././././_

_ Thankfully the two made it into the town with all their limbs relatively intact. Upon their arrival, Joffrey told her of his plan to find a gas station for directions to the nearest mechanic when Sansa confidently stomped past the blonde and the pump to march her way into the diner across the street instead. Confused, he thought of leaving her behind and following his own plans, but remembering the haggard look of cold on her face made his heart twinge uncomfortably and so decided to humor her for the time being and follow her instead. _

_ The bell over the door chimed as they stepped foot into the establishment, the warmth wafting out immediately, thawing Joffrey's aching cheek. Just as the scruffy man behind the counter looked up to welcome the two, his eyes lit up in recognition of Sansa. The man threw down the pencil and pad he held to come out from behind the barrier to give her an engulfing hug._

_ "Raaaaaaawwwwwr. Look at you, Sansa Stark." exclaimed the man, his backwards baseball cap almost falling off in having to stoop so low to hug the much shorter girl. "You look all snazzy, dressed like that. Got any dance concerts you haven't told us?"_

_ Sansa laughed and wormed her way out of the embrace, punching the man lightly on the arm. "No, Rick, just had to go to this family thing and our car broke down. I was hoping to catch Kimgela here, since I know she closes up shop early on Friday to stop by for Pie day-Friday."_

_ Rick laughed, ruffling her hair and told the two of them to sit while he went to go phone the mechanic, seeing as Kimgela still hadn't made an appearance at the diner. _

_ After the fourth patron's warm greeting towards Sansa _and him_, Joffrey had enough of the mystery and decided to confront Sansa._

_ "What the fuck is going on? Why do all these people know you?" _

_ Sansa stopped mid bite, placing down the fork back onto her pie plate, turning in her stool to regard him. "I live here. I rent the space above this diner for when I have to come out to the dance studio, when you know, I have to teach the choreography to the dancers in videos and stuff."_

_ Joffrey stared back with disbelief, seeing if she was telling the truth or not. "You're telling me to believe that little miss perfect and proper is really a choreographer in her spare time?" _

_ Sansa nodded. _

_ "Prove it."_

_ She sighed, as if already expecting such response and pulled out her phone, cueing up the video to a song that was now overplayed on the radio. Skipping to the end and the rolling credits, Sansa paused it at a particular line: Choreographer: Lemon-cake Lady. Joffrey scoffed. _

_ "That doesn't prove anything."_

_ Sansa shook her head and asked him if he knew what her favorite dessert was. He knew of course. He didn't want to, but when it was time to officially meet the girl he was going to marry, his Mother drilled into him that he needed to make a good impression and that he should bring her favorites...lemon cakes. Son of a bitch. Joffrey was floored by this sudden revelation and gaped at her._

_ "What? You thought I was only learning ballet at those dance classes I took?" was her cheeky reply, as he saw a whole new side to her that she never dared show him._

_ That was the day Joffrey Baratheon found that Sansa, under her perfect lady veneer was cheeky, and sarcastically humorous if she chose to be. He found that he liked this side of her and something tiny bloomed in his heart at the thought of sharing a secret with somebody, building a camaraderie with another person that expected nothing from him in return for being the Lannister Heir._

_/./././././././_

_ "You want to come with me?" was Sansa's incredulous reply to Joffrey's pleas to follow her back to the town, after last week's 'deer debacle' as the two referred to. "But you'll be bored. I'm only going back for practice and that's gonna take a good chunk of the day." _

_ "That's cool. Ms. Christie invited me to the opening of the new town museum up at the old Hamley house."_

_ Sansa's eyes boggled. "Ms. Christie? Since when do you know Ms. Christie?"_

_ "We had a nice talk when you went off with Rick and Kimgela to get my car towed down the mountains. Actually, Gwendolyn was there too. And she was pretty awesome." Joffrey replied in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. He knew that the way he treated Sansa in the past was down right terrible and she had every right to refuse him as retribution. But despite that, he yearned to go back to that cozy town, at the foot of the mountains and to once again feel the warmth it inspired in his shriveled up hope._

_ Having that conversation with the two town gossip made him realize that these people truly didn't know who he was, nor cared as to how much money he had, or what favors they could garner from him. They were truly interested in him (well, interested in the _male_ Sansa brought along with her) and what he thought, rather than what his family was up to, or what he thought of his _Uncle Jaime_. He had never felt like this, and having frank, if not bizarre conversations with the patrons of the diner and being called out by Sansa on his asshole behavior brought on a weird queasy sensation in his chest, that wasn't all bad, that he wanted to feel once again._

_ Sansa scrutinized him for a minute and released a sigh. "Oh alright, but I get to drive this time." she winked . "Wouldn't want a run in with Bambi again."_

_ Joffrey laughed, glad to have gained a tentative ally within the girl he once thought vapid and brainless. _

_/././././././_

_ "Sansa! I'm so sorry, are you ok? Please tell me you're ok. God, what have I done? I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." Joffrey could only repeat his apologies like a mantra, horrified at what he'd done, giving her a wide berth, afraid that his hand would sprout a mind of its own, and strike her again._

_ Sansa laid on the ground immobile since she first went down disoriented, when she staggered back from the force of his punch. She clutched at her face, trying to stem the bleeding of her nose. She threw an arm out, silencing his mumblings and tried to speak, spitting out blood and a chipped fragment of her tooth. _

_ "I'b fine." she struggled through a mouth full of blood, "just, can you get me some ice?"_

_ Joffrey scrambled out from the niche between the couch and side table of their small apartment home and raced towards the fridge. Seeing they had no ice, he grabbed the pack of frozen vegetable medley and carried it back to where the girl still lay on the floor by the coffee table._

_ He didn't know how the events came to be. One minute, they were talking, and per usual, it turned to a light argument that made his blood boil so much, he had to find an outlet for it. That form apparently manifested itself into him punching Sansa's face to just stop her from speaking. He just wanted her to stop, her words were making him so upset, that he just... Joffrey kept reeling at the thought, as the moment replayed over and over in his mind grotesquely, all the what ifs, swirling alongside, filling him with more regret. _

_ Sansa hoisted herself up onto her legs, using the low table as support as she unsteadily made her way towards the bathroom to wash the blood off her face, ice packet covering the lower half of her face. Joffrey followed after her but with distance, afraid and anticipating the outburst in which she angrily chucked him out of her life, this town, and the peace and comfort it gave his chaotic mind._

_ The utter silence in the apartment was torture, as he kept watch over Sansa hobbling about the place, getting what she needed to manage the swelling. Finally, she turned to face him with utter sadness in her eyes that tore through him and beckoned him back towards the sitting area_

_ "Joff, I love you, but you need help." _

_ There was no contempt in her eyes, only despair. Sadness for him, someone she cared for, going through so much pain and conflicting emotions. And in that instant, he knew with utter conviction that Sansa _understood_. She knew of the voices whispering inside his head, clawing at his mind to be set free and wreak havoc upon his loved ones, wanting to muck up carefully built trust, and reject useless notions such as love. He let it go then, all the worries of hiding these thoughts, having to throw on a facade of being normal, overwhelming sadness that his insanity was inherent proof to him of the unholy union between his Mother and his Uncle._

_ As he sat there and cried in Sansa's comforting arms, he vowed then and there that he was going to change. He was going to find someone that could help him accomplish that. Here was a friend, a true friend, that should've hated him for what he'd done, for how he had treated her, yet welcomed him into her life, and introduced him to others that engulfed him into the fold without question. They had sparked back up the humanity he thought to be long gone within and he wanted to keep it. His heart broke over and over as she soothed away his tears and that was how he fell asleep, exhausted from letting the flood gates open. The last thing he remembered was Sansa's comforting voice as she sung his troubles away with an old lullaby._

_/./././././_

_ "So how do you like Dr. Schwenkler?"_

_ "Hopeful." Joffrey shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to give into the hope just yet. His first few sessions were amazing and she assured him that with proper medication and continued sessions, he could get a handle on the voices inside his head. Painful life experiences however, taught him that things could _and_ did go wrong, and Joffrey didn't want to do anything to jinx his chances._

_ Sansa glanced at his apprehensive face and smiled reassuringly, reaching over to squeeze his hand before she started up her car to drive the both of them back home._

_ "Miss Christie's throwing random class night again at her studio this Friday. You should go. She invites local artist to teach a class for the day and it's a fun way to dabble in many aspects of the art. I know you've been bored. Besides, Dr. Schwenkler said you should mingle more, interact with other people. Go have fun. You need to start forgiving yourself._

_ "I'm not ready."_

_ "You of all people should know how forgiving the town can be Joff. They would never judge you. Go, integrate yourself back into society and grace the town with your presence. I'm sure at this point, people have forgotten what you look like. Besides, if you leave now, our fridge and freezer would appreciate the reprieve from all the casseroles left on the porch."_

_ "They really love you. Kind of weird that the townies leave you casseroles as a get well soon gift, but it's endearing all the same."_

_ "Yeah, um, my bruises disappeared two months ago. Those casseroles are for you, dummy. Go show them that you're fine."_

_ "But...but..."_

_ "No buts. I hear a rather renowned metal smith is teaching the first class. Who knows, you might rather enjoy it."_

_/./././././././_

_ "Sansa!" Joffrey yelled, as he slammed the door open, flinging his apron off and gently placing his tool belt on the entryway table. "Guess what! I sold my first piece! We have to celebrate! Let's go to Al's Ale! They have great meatloaf! My treat! With my first sale money!"_

_ Sansa descended down the stairs of their new home, amusement in the corners of her upturned mouth, abruptly halting Joffrey, pointing him out to the trails of bright post-it notes crawling along their hard-wood floor. _

_ "What's this?" Joffrey raised his eyebrow, tilting his head to one side in apparent confusion._

_ "Derek thought it dangerous that a vulnerable young girl such as myself was living in her first house all alone was a dangerous thing so he _kindly_ broke in and installed us a security system._

_ Joffrey scoffed "What am I, a sack of potatoes?" _

_ Sansa ignored him "However, the motion sensor in this system is apparently _very _sensitive and it triggers at the slightest of movements, making a rather loud alarm bell go off. I spent the entire morning mapping out a safe route we can take that won't get picked up. Follow the directions on the post-its." Sansa finished, a note of firmness in her tone, telling Joffrey exactly how long it took her to do this and how upset and tired she was at the whole ordeal._

_ "Soooo... this blue trail's telling me to squat and hop like a bunny when I pass the staircase... You really want me to..._

_ "Squat and hop like a mother fucking bunny, bitch." _

_/./././././././_

_ Joffrey and Sansa stood in front of the complex, marveling at it, not quite believing the fact that they had actually purchased the place. Sansa got up with minimal grumblings when in the middle of the night, the blonde came to wake her up, wanting to see the place again, confirm it's real-ness. _

_ "It's..."_

_ "Huge." Sansa finished his sentence, looping her hand in the crook of his elbow._

_ "Was the place this big, when the realtor showed it to us?"_

_ "Well, naturally, but you're about to open a bustling studio. Isn't it a good thing? You're going to need to hire a lot more people if the demand of your jewelry is anything to go by."_

_ Joffrey let out a long breath, looking back at Sansa fondly. "My own studio."_

_ "Your own business." Sansa smiled back."So, oh mighty, Baratheon. What are you going to name it?_

_/././././././_

" Bleeding Heart Stags?! You're the maker of Bleeding Heart Stags jewelry?" Sandor threw dubious looks, making Joffrey snicker and fondly remember back on times when he too, threw those exact same looks at Sansa when she told him she was a dance choreographer.

"Yup. That's me." Joffrey beamed, jovially adjusting imaginary suspenders by his shirt. "Hope you aren't too disappointed in me hiding this from you. I really wanted to tell you, Sandor, but Sansa said that the less who knew, the better. Hope you won't tell Grandfather?"

Sandor rubbed at his temple, feeling the massive headache coming in, as he took in all that was said. He looked up from his hands, smiling softly at Joffrey, as much as his scars allowed him to smile, and reassured the boy of his silence.

"So long as you're safe, aye, your secret's safe with me."

The two shared a look in companionable silence, appreciating the other as Sandor added an afterthought, "I'm proud, boy. You've come a long way from the asshole you were."

Onlookers at the wake looked up startled, the boisterous laughs of the two men in the corner jarring them from the rather silent gathering of Paprika, the cat's wake.

/././././

A/N: aaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm outie 3000. see you Sunday.


	3. there's a hound in the coop

Chapter Three: There's a Hound in the Coop

/././././././

"Yes, but why do _I_ have to look after him?" Sansa puffed indignantly as she imitated Joff and stomped her foot angrily.

"Sansa," deadpanned Joffrey, "The man's 35. You'd hardly have to _look after_ him. I just want you to accompany him, show him around the town, entertain him."

"Yes, well, why can't _you_ do that? He's _your_ beloved friend. I just don't get why he has to come in the first place. I thought you said he was on our side."

"Aye, I am and I'm just here to see the boy's progress and home town he won't shut up about."

Sansa jumped from the sudden appearance of Sandor Clegane, cursing how he kept getting the better of her, and making her jumpy and nervous around him.

"I leave myself in your capable hands...little bird."

"Just try to keep up." Sansa challenged, sweeping out the door, yanking a coat off the coat hanger on her way out.

Sandor smirked, enjoying her fiery side previously unseen, and followed her out, his wider strides allowing him to catch up to her hurried steps in no time.

"Play nice!" were Joffrey's last words as he worriedly glanced out the door, hoping that they didn't try to murder each other during the outing. Noticing the time, the blonde scampered out the house as well, quickly making his way to the studios to catch up on the orders for his new jewelry line.

/././././././

"Why are you _really_ here?" Sansa shot, as they got out of hearing range from the house. "Joff may fucking kiss the ground you walk on, but you won't fool me so easily. I know where your allegiances lie and it's to the man that pays you. Why haven't you told Tywin Lannister about us yet?"

"Why the poisonous words, girl? I don't remember warranting such animosity from you. Have I slighted you any way in the past? I don't think so."

"Don't call me girl. I'm 23, and besides, everyone knows you were once affiliated with the mafia. No honor amongst thieves they say. Why should we trust you?"

Sandor's expression turned dark. "Listen, _girl_. You don't know what you're talking about. Those were times that don't concern you and I've most certainly left it behind. Joffrey may love you as well, but you judge me again on matters you know nothing about, I'll show you exactly how I got the moniker the Hound in the most feared mafia in the country." Sandor seethed, stepping close into her space and all but spit each syllable into her face.

Sansa felt ashamed. Her Mother always taught her to never judge a person by their appearance and that was what she was doing. She type casted Sandor Clegane as the clichéd villain. Though true that the man looked the part, and most certainly acted it on occasions, Sansa really didn't know the man all too well. She only knew whispers and conjectures, spoken in hushed tones by idle house wives at the snobby charities she and Joff attended.

"I'm... sorry. I was just a bit defensive. I... Joff and I worked really hard for this life we created here and we would like to preserve it, if we can." she finished, full of remorse.

"The Lannisters, or your family for that matter, will find out. At least, not from me. You've done the boy a world of good, and for that, Sansa Stark, I thank you."

Sansa flushed, not used to hearing such words being uttered by such a gruff man and looked away in embarrassment, mumbling denials to his claims, scuffing her shoes in the dirt. She looked up at him from under her lashes, marveling at how _tall_ he was and made up her mind to get to know the man Joffrey considered to be a good friend and confidante.

"No thanks necessary. Let's re do this. I'm Sansa Stark, and I know a delicious place that serves the best goulash ever." she smiled rather shyly, silently cursing the man for being able to make her feel like a flustered tween when she otherwise considered herself a confidant young woman.

Sandor barked out a laugh. "Lead the way again, milady." he smirked, dramatically bowing and offering her his arm. "Where to?"

"Al's Ale." Sansa responded as she looped her arm enthusiastically and tugged him along, this time keeping pace, steering him towards the scenic route to Al's: The one with all the dogwoods lining the sidewalk.

"Al's Ale? And they have goulash? Shouldn't an ale place, I don't know, have ale?"

"Oh, they do," quipped Sansa. "Al just went on this glamorous world tour a while back, the one you accomplish in 85 days or something, and he came back a changed man. He changes the menu every month to feature a different country's cuisine."

Sandor blanched. Sansa saw and laughed in glee.

"Don't worry! You'll be fine! Just don't order any shellfish!"

Sandor prayed to every single deity of the Seven and hoped that he came out of this intact.

/./././././

Joffrey was surprised to see Sandor sitting comfortably on their couch when he came back from a long day at the studio. Though delighted to see the older man, Joff was just about to ask what he was doing here when Sansa burst out of the kitchen, one had clutching a bowl over flowing with popcorn and in the other, a plate piled precariously with tater tots. Joffrey threw a glance over to the coffee table, noting the mound of junk food, groaning under the massive weight placed atop.

"Movie night?" the Baratheon called out. "But it's only Wednesday."

Sansa looked up after carefully placing down the last two items on the table and answered. "Yes, but Sandor hasn't seen important, iconic movies and I had to fix that immediately. Care to join us?"

"I hardly think that some movie about a vampire and a hormonal teenage girl is a cultural gem that needed to be watched 'immediately'." Sandor interjected from the couch, lounging deep amongst a pile of pillows and blankets.

"Hush Sandor. It so is, if you were there the first time to listen to us mock the shit out of it. We also made a drinking game: Guaranteed to fry your liver the first twenty minutes in!"

Sandor eyed her disbelievingly, scooping up the piping hot tater tots and chewed on them slowly rather than saying anything. Sansa took his tacit answer as an ok go, pushing the play button. She burrowed under the blankets as well, arranging the pillows on the couch to her liking, even stealing some from Sandor's pile.

Joffrey stood in the foyer, watching the movie play on without him, bubbles of laughter erupting from the couch, as the usually gloomy man laughed at the commentaries made by the other.

"Drink!" Sansa commanded after a particular scene.

"What?! But that would mean I'd have to drink seven shots. One for each stupid line."

"Drink!" Sansa giggled, pressing the two liter bottle of ginger ale into the man's refusing hands.

Sandor grimaced, begrudgingly accepting the proffered beverage and proceeded to chug half of its content. Sansa erupted into more peals of laughter, tears streaming down her face, hands slapping the back of the Hound's back when he started to choke on the carbonation.

"Uh, yeah. No it's ok. I didn't want to join you guys. You know, long day at the studio and stuff..." spoke Joffrey to what seemed like no one.

/./././././

"YOU. ARE. INSAAAAANE." was Gendry Waters' measured out response when Joffrey pealed around the corner of the studio to confront the young man, built like a sturdy chimney, about his wild theories. "One, if Sansa was going to be in a relationship, much less with the man she knows you consider a good friend, she would've told you. Uhp uhp, no," Gendry threw out a hand, putting a stop to the crazy speculations he just knew Joffrey had prepared as his evidence. "She tells you everything bro. And I mean _everything. _Fuck, she even tells you her menstrual cycles."

The two men shuddered at the thought, Joffrey agreeing that a girl that kept him up to date about everything in her life, would most likely not keep a secret, sordid, love affair with a one, Sandor Clegane, from him. But still thinking on it, Joffrey was not to be deterred, because he had proof, damn it. Seeing that Gendry was fast losing interest, Joffrey pounced once more, clinging to his arm, and stopping the brunette from working, forcing him to pay attention to the whining blonde latched upon him.

"But Gendryyyyyyyyyy" Joffrey cried with amazing likeness of a petulant child "You weren't there to see the way he stole her fries off her plate last night!"

There was a second of silence, as Gendry stared back, Joffrey finally relieved to have another believer, an ally, when he was shoved off. Joff looked up from the floor, akin to a wounded puppy, as he made keening, whining noises in the back of his throat. Gendry rolled his eyes, ignoring the blonde, as he stalked off towards the work bench.

"Cruelty!" Joffrey yelled, still on the ground, curled up and clutching his knees to his chest. "You nonbeliever! You shall see who is right! Soon!"

"Oh sod off!" was the mumbled reply, as it, too, was soon drowned out by the sound of a torch being lit.

/./././././

"Joffrey Baratheon! You were trailing us throughout town, dressed as a _rhododendron bush _because you thought I was secretly dating Sandor Clegane?"

"If I say that, in my defense, he stole that fry off your plate rather lovingly, will you understand why I had to follow you to uncover the truth because I thought you were hiding your love for each other from me?" he defended rather lamely, shoving tendrils of leaves off his face as the flowers in his head-dress started to droop.

With dirt smeared all over Joffrey's face and the bright pink flowers smothering his entire being, Sansa wasn't quite sure whether she should call Dr. Schwenkler, laugh and take pictures, get mad or do all of the above. Sandor was no help in the situation, situating himself between a corner of their kitchen, biting down on his knuckles to avoid ending up on the ground again, clutching his sides and guffawing. The Hound hadn't recalled a time in recent memory, or if ever, when he laughed this hard and this much. Now a days, he thanked the Seven constantly for having the Stark girl walk into Joffrey's life, and by proxy, into his.

"Joff, sweetie, listen. I love you, but you are bat. Shit. cra-cra. Me and Sandor are just friends. Just like you two. I think you're just jealous that we're spending more time with each other than with you."

"Jealous?... Yeah, jealous..." Joffrey tested out the word, seeing if it was indeed jealousy that he felt.

"Yeah. You've been busy at the studio with your new line. And I know you've got all hands on deck, but you still spend a lot of time there and haven't really been home much." Sansa continued, Joffrey nodding along. "Naturally, Sandor comes along with you now to the town after his discovery, and since you're busy, it's up to me to hang out with him."

"True, true. But hey, what about you? I thought you had a big gig with that one company, prepping a shit ton of back-up dancers for some idol's world tour."

"Sweetheart, I think you lost track of time a bit while you were tinkering away. That was three weeks ago."

"What?! But it's only Tuesday. No, Thursday? No, Fri...Fraturday?" Joffrey mumbled, confused, plucking at his outfit, scattering about foliage.

" Okie dokes. It is time for somebody to go to bed." she ushered gently, taking the human- plant hybrid's arms and tugged him along towards the couch in the living room. "You need sleep and food after all that hard work, and I promise that as soon as you wake up, all three of us are going to hang out and have fun. As friends. Only friends."

Sansa gently swept back the hair and flowers off Joffrey's forehead to place a soft kiss while she tucked a blanket around his bulky outfit. The last thing Joffrey thought he remembered seeing through a sleepy haze was Sansa walking back into the kitchen to give Sandor a rather tender embrace.

/././././././

Sansa finally brought Sandor along to the studios, seeing that Joffrey was done with everything. Sandor protested that he wanted to see the place sooner, but Sansa assured him, stepping foot into a smith during their busy season, was a mistake she was not going to make ever. She had a faint, but still visible chain link shaped burn on her upper arm to persuade him with. Besides, with Sandor's past, and his unease towards fire, she thought it best to go visit Joff when all the work was done and there was no chance of anyone lighting up the torches.

They were having a nice lunch Sansa packed on the work bench of Joffrey's space when a familiar face peered in.

"Yo, Joff, imma gonna go take a small kip on the couch. I've been up all night finishing Mrs. Westerheimer's order. It's on my bench if you could give it the ok go after you're done with this?"

"Sure thing, Gendry. Thanks."

Joffrey was about to wave him off when Sandor exclaimed from beside them.

"The fucking Sevens! The fucker looks just like Robert Baratheon!"

"Yeah, when he was good looking, you mean?" was Joffrey's sarcastic response, Sansa hitting him on the arm for it.

"Fuck it, Joffrey. Did you know this? Why in Seven Hells would you hire Robert's bastard child?"

"Did I _know_ about it?! Fuck yeah I knew! Look at him! You'd have to be an idiot to not know he had to be super related to Robert. I hired him 'cuz this is what my entire studio's about: _irony!_ The place is called Bleeding Heart Stags for crying out loud. And we make high end, pretentious as fuck jewelry my Mother and her super bitch-y friends like to buy and flaunt. And yes, I get immense pleasure in hearing it every time when a nouveau riche ho sticks out her hand to show off the ring she just got at the motha-fuckin' butchered deer studio. I get so much happiness in seeing this asshole's face every time I come to work." As an afterthought, especially in seeing Gendry's I'm-200%-done-with-your-shit look, Joffrey added that he did hire the bastard for his smithing skills as well.

The other workers in the studio did not bat an eye, hearing their boss yell out in pain at the unmistakable sound of someone getting bitch-punched in the face. They had all figured out at this point that this was how Gendry showed his affections, and he did so love the boss man the most.

/./././././

A/N: end chapter three. Hope you enjoyed =) 'til next tuesday!


	4. thank you jesus, for this food

Chapter Four: Thank You Jesus, for This Food

/././././././

Joffrey sighed, the heat of the sun beating down his back relentlessly, as he trudged up the steadily inclining but long hill to his destination. He was traveling there, the inn at the edge of the town (where people crazy enough to visit his town stayed), to deliver wedding rings he had been commissioned to make. He was sorely regretting not taking up Gendry's offer to take the rings to the venue, but hoping to swipe a slice of cake for his efforts, Joffrey volunteered instead.

Sweat pouring down his forehead, he rubbed at his eyes, making them sting even worse, the perspiration on his hands not helping matters. Too busy in trying to make out the road with eyes half squinted, Joffrey almost missed the strangled cries coming from beyond the top of the hill. The short blonde blinked in confusion, thinking that he momentarily hallucinated the call when suddenly, kicking up a mighty dust storm, a flock of swans came hurtling down the grassy slope. A figure, still too far in the distance, yelled out to him.

"Hey, hey, you! Stop those swans! They're getting away!"

Joffrey really didn't know how to _stop_ a stampeding horde of crazed swans, and wasting precious time thinking on such matters, collided with them under a flurry of feathers, sharp webbed feet, and vicious beaks.

"Ow! Mother of..! Jesus, Mary, and Ginger Christ!" he yelled.

He got into a tight ball on the ground to protect any exposed part of him and cursed inwardly for not bringing a jacket to protect himself from swan attacks... on a hot summer day (scratch that thought. He was most certainly going crazy)... He was definitely going for an extra long session with the Doc after this ordeal. This town had put him through many a crazy festival and town meeting, but he believed this was his first ever (and hopefully last) swan stampede.

The last of the swans took a last jab at him with its beak and, seemingly satisfied, ambled along down the hill with its brethren. Joffrey slowly uncrossed the arms above his head, peeking out, trying to determine if the danger had truly left, when the figure running after the swans was standing above him, yelling.

"Thanks a lot, man. You let all the swans escape! I told you to stop them! Do you know how long it'll take to herd those birds back?! And the wedding's in two hours!"

Joffrey saw red then. Here he was, minding his business, on his own delivery mission no less, on this god forsakenly hot day, when he got trampled by large, carnivorous birds. He was the victim here and this asshole had the nerve to yell at him for not stopping well trained assassins (No, he was not being melodramatic). The blonde hastily stood up and brushed off as much dirt as he could, meanwhile, assessing the cold hearted bastard that released the horde upon him. He stood with a wide stance, one foot tapping impatiently, arms crossed seeming to be doing the same thing to Joffrey. Judging from the young man's skin tone, he was Middle Eastern...or Hispanic. He really couldn't tell (that, or he was just really bad at identifying ethnicities). Or very possibly, he could've been Asian...

"Well?" stomped the ethnically vague man. "You gon' help me get those swans back or did the swans stomp you into stupidity?"

"Listen, you jerk butt turducken!" Joffrey fumed. "I just got viciously _attacked_ by highly coordinated, skilled, trained ninja assassins and you want me to go _after them_?! This is all your fault!" He jabbed the man pointedly in the chest, trying to emphasize his point.

His opponent smacked it away, coming back quick with his own retort. "Well, _drama queen_, if you weren't just standing there like an idiot and let yourself get trampled, you wouldn't have been run over. Oh yeah, and nice curse word by the way: _jerk butt turducken_?" he sneered one last time in Joffrey's direction, stalking angrily past him, making sure their shoulders collided as he walked down hill, presumably in search of his flock.

Joff bit back a curse, a real one, as he remembered Dr. Schwenkler's words from previous sessions; some psychological mumbo jumbo to controlling his anger by controlling his words. He held his breath and slowly counted to ten, releasing it slowly, willing his anger to dissipate along with his breath. He couldn't wait to finish delivering the damn rings and go home to rant to Sansa and Sandor. On second thought, he thought it wise not to tell Sandor. He knew Sansa'd laugh but at least she'd be sympathetic, undoubtedly seeing all the bruises and numerous scratches left behind by the swans. Sandor on the other hand, experiences had told him, would just laugh...and laugh...and laugh some more.

/././././././

Joff decided to make a pit stop at Rick's that day, after finishing work. The morning started off rough with that ring delivery and things went downhill from there once he got back to the studio. Everybody thought he was lying to them when they asked what had happened, upon spotting his personage. He protested, not recalling how many times he had to reiterate that he really did get attacked by a flock of super fat, angry swans. The response was usually the same, the others laughing, slapping him hard on a particularly sore spot on his back (where an extra pudgy swan had deigned to sit upon him) telling him that he was crazy great with all these ridiculous stories. After the fifth time this scenario repeated itself, Joffrey gave up on saying anything, just flicking off the next person asking what had happened.

He walked into the diner, mouth salivating at the thought of comfort food-Thursday night. He already knew what he was going to order: a bowl of piping hot chili, smothered in shredded cheddar cheese with a side of corn bread. He scurried over towards the counter at the back, where he knew Rick usually was at this hour, to place his order.

Not seeing him anywhere, Joffrey decided to peer above the saloon style swinging doors situated in the wall behind the counter, hoping to spot him working on a new pot of chili. Nothing particularly stood out in the dimly lit space when he suddenly spotted movement by the oven. Rick had his entire upper body in an oven, tinkering away at whatever it was that made it stop running. Delighted at spotting rick, the blonde called out playfully.

"Yo bitch! What does a ho got to do around here to get a bowl of damn chili?"

The man in the ovens wiggled out, dusting out crumbs from a mop of short, thick, dark hair as he turned, and Joffrey realized it most certainly was not Rick he had just called out to: It was the swan fiend (as Joffrey had dubbed him).

The man stared on for a minute, wiping his hand on a rag he kept on his shoulders, seeming to carefully thinking out his response.

"Not with that attitude you won't." was his answer and all Joff could think to do was grab the nearest pot of coffee and fling it at the bastard, but managed to restrain himself. In the back of his mind, he could hear Sansa's voice, listing the methods of calm to utilize in situations of extreme anger. Not wanting to cause a scene, Joffrey backed out slowly, flicking him off. Not feeling satisfied, he brought up his other hand to join in the endeavor. He kept throwing up his middle fingers at the man as he inched out backwards, looking out for tables and chairs in his peripherals.

/././././././

It was officially the worst day ever as the Lannister heir made his way back home, sans chili, rant mode at the ready the moment he saw Sansa. True to her kind nature, Sansa was sympathetic towards his plight and suggested that all three of them should go out to soothe Joffrey's brooding soul. She had read in the town crier that the small theater was holding a black and white movie night and thought it the perfect event. The blonde couldn't agree more. He ignored the snickers Sandor sent his way and readily ushered Sansa out the door so that he could at least salvage his evening.

The theater was crowded, filled with the town folk, as they all waited in line to purchase tickets. Still fuming, Joffrey decided to vent more about the douche he met, the line in front slowly dwindling down. Just as they made their way towards the front, Joff spewed out every single curse word he wanted to call the swan owner/oven fixer that day but couldn't, in the heat of anger.

"Well hello to you too, pendejo." was the ticket seller's monotone reply as Joffrey's face turned red, recognizing the voice.

"You!" he sputtered out the same time Sansa called out his name eagerly.

"Jesus! Welcome back! When did you get back? We were all worried! Especially Gwen and Ms. Christie. You told us you were going back to Mexico for just three weeks, but it's been three _years_. You might want to call the Mexican consulate, seeing as how, um, certain members of the town may or may not have called to demand your release from Mexico, thinking you were a political hostage of sort..." Sansa trailed off, walking up to the booth to hug the man awkwardly over counters and partitions.

"Connecticut has a Mexican consulate?" Jesus mumbled out through Sansa's hair, face bewildered at such notions.

Sansa laughed and released him, patting his cheek affectionately.

"So, what's this that I hear about the both of you acting like _not_ the grown ass adults you are, towards each other?"

"But he started it!" was both men's response as they pouted at Sansa and pointed in each other's direction.

"Oh really, mature." Joffrey bit out.

"Look who's talking. Mr. 'I-got-two-hands,-smitch!-I-can-flick-you-off-with-_both-_hands!' Can't even curse right!"

"That was because you clearly wouldn't give me the chili...and sent assassin swans after me!"

"Says who?! I was just there to fix Rick's oven! I couldn't very damn well hand you chili! And besides, those swans are harmless! You're just too stupid to dodge!"

"Oh yeah, well, Mexico called, and they want their taco maker back!"

"That wasn't even remotely funny, you racist fuck, seeing as how I'm a motherfucking citizen and my family actually _does_ own a taco shell factory..."

Sansa smothered a laugh as she stepped out from between the insults volleyed between the two and made her way back to Sandor.

"They're going to end up marrying each other aren't they?" Sandor spoke, seeing the mirth in Sansa's eyes.

"Yup. I'll be best man and you, Sandor Clegane, can be the flower girl...You knew?"

"Aye. Though the boy doesn't act like a complete fruitcake, like that youngest Tyrell boy."

"You tread gracefully on subjects of sensitivity. And hey! Renly says he's a perfectly nice gentleman."

"More like a nice lover."

Sandor rubbed his arm, taking note to remember that Sansa threw one heck of a punch.

/./././././

Jesus's jovial face fell the instant he opened the door and saw who was standing there.

"Ugh, puto. What are you doing here?"

Joffrey's expression looked no better, dead eyed as he spoke the words Sansa made him rehearse with no emotions "Welcome back. Please take these lemon cakes as a token of my," here he sighed, struggling to spit out the next set of words, "remorse and apology."

"You okay there? Looks like you swallowed one of the lemons used to make those cakes."

"Tell me about it. That was way worse than I thought it would be. By the way something smells nice, what are you making?"

Before the darker skinned man had time to be offended, Joffrey had pushed the covered plate into his arms and shoved his way past the front door.

"I... what are you... you can't just..." Jesus sputtered, unsure what to get upset about first.

Unfazed, Joffrey marched on, sniffing his way to the kitchen. Upon his arrival, he exclaimed in glee. "Ooh! You made tacos! Oh, oh! I bet they're good. Can I have one, please? Just one, I swear. Oh, oh. Did you make this pico de gallo, too? Hot damn! This is good! Yippee, you have guacamole!"

Jesus blinked, remembering some of those bizarre episodes he saw on the sci-fi channel as a boy where the main character traveled to alternate realities, and wondered if he accidentally stepped into one too. Sansa was right, as always. As he leaned against the doorway and looked on at Joffrey's exuberant victory dance at obtaining tacos, he found that he couldn't stay mad at the blonde intruder.

/././././

"No fair! Jesus got to pick what game to play last tiiiiiiiime." Joffrey whined, in his trademark manner.

"Because Go Fish is not a real game and boring! A fucking snooze fest!" was Jesus's quick retort as the two glowered at each other. Eventually, that too, turned into a girl's cat fight, the two adults slapping each other's hands repetitively and ferociously.

Sandor leaned in towards Sansa, brushing aside her hair to whisper in her ear that he was not going to be a part of this stupidity, again, and excused himself to go enjoy a drink on the porch. She too, wanted to join him and leave the two to their bickering, but the last time she did that, their fight somehow progressed to proving the 'you so can to toast ice cream' theory. That ended with a stern talking to from the town fireman and the electrical socket no longer worked, scorched around the edges.

"First one to the self-owning tree and back gets to pick the game?" Joffrey challenged, eyes gleaming with fire.

"Deal."

The boys shook on it heartily and made a mad dash for the door, momentarily getting stuck in the narrow doorway, both of them trying to exit the same time, as they pushed one another with elbows for dominance. Finally breaking free, Jesus gained a small head start when he jumped down the small flight of stairs up to their front door rather than run down it like Joffrey was.

The words 'you cheat' and boisterous laughter was the last of what Sansa heard, shaking her head and closing the door on the boy's antics. She just hoped they'd realize the sexual tension between each other soon, and decide to act upon it like normal people would.

/./././././

Joffrey was out with Jesus for their seventh attempt at the hay maze that had taken up their entire town. How they got talked into making their town into a maze at the town meeting, Sansa would never know, but the motion was seconded, and passed, and construction of it began immediately the next day. The town mayor even had the gazebo removed temporarily, wanting to make the maze more challenging and fearing that people would use the structure as a landmark.

Rather than being upset that it now took the two boys longer to get to work, having to complete the maze, the two thrived in it, going through it every chance they got. They were once again competing to see who could traverse the maze the quickest. Sandor and Sansa declined their generous offer to go out with them, and decided to bunker out in the house and watch re-runs instead. Sansa was starting to doze off to the dulcet tones of the district attorney on screen when Sandor spoke up, breaking the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"What were you going to do? Assuming that your family never found out about all this, were you really going to marry the boy?"

Sansa yawned, rubbing away the sleep and scooted closer to the man, reveling in the heat he emitted. "Mmm...Well, of course. Our parents expect us to marry, and marry him, I will. Joff and I are under no illusions. It won't be a loveless marriage. The love between us just isn't just the kind of love you see in a normal marriage, but we would've made it work. We were each planning on having a lover on the side, like a scandalous, Spanish telenovela." she smirked up at him, leaning up on her hands to rub her nose against his.

"And you think I'm just going to be ok watching you marry some guy when you claim to love me?"

Sansa smiled, thinking back to the time Joffrey started tailing them in various shrubbery outfits, convinced they were secretly going out. The boy was too perceptive for his own good, but thankfully, gullible enough to steer away.

"Yes, well good thing I'm not just going to marry 'some guy'. I know for a fact that you love Joffrey and if not you, then aren't you glad that it's Joff?"

Sansa squealed as she skidded and evaded the arms that were out to capture her, no doubt trying to pin her down to tickle her sides. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best of ideas to tease the burly man, but she couldn't help it. The joke was there and she had to take it. She laughed breathlessly as Sandor popped up from nowhere to corner her against an armoire. His piercing gaze made her breath hitch in her throat as he leaned in closer for a kiss.

/./././././

Jesus hastily threw a hand over Joffrey's mouth, as he saw him, no doubt, trying to triumphantly yell out that 'he knew it.' Joffrey struggled against the hand, forcing Jesus to yank the blonde back into his chest, gaining better hold and leverage over the shorter man.

Joffrey flushed, when he realized the position Jesus put them into. But not being one to waste a golden opportunity, Joffrey tilted his head a bit to the side to breathe in his scent. He smelled like hay, from the maze no doubt, and cilantro, and something woodsy and all together masculine. As he leaned back into the hold, he felt the other's solid chest, and vowed silently to get rid of that puffy vest that did nothing for the physique Joffrey knew it was covering.

The only downside to this was Joffrey being unable to rub his discovery in Sansa's face, seeing as how she predicted Joffrey would end up 'liking' Jesus and when he did realize, promised not to taunt or rub it in his face. Joffrey started to pout, only to come up with a brilliant plan. He was going to rope Jesus into helping him make the two confess their secret relationship to Joffrey so that he could act betrayed and rub it in their faces that he knew it, not to mention, spend more time with the sexy taco maker. As he turned in the hold to look up and relay his plans, Joffrey made another secret plan, one that would help him gain the love and affections of the man that provided him with such excellent deliciousness.

/./././././

A/N: meow. Another chappie done. Thanks for those who reviewed. Warms mah heart.


	5. poking the lion, not good, very not good

Chapter Five: Poking the Lion, Not Good. Very Not Good.

/./././././

Sansa and Joffrey sat awkwardly, perched upon their coffee table, every other sitting space taken up by their vast family members. Joffrey scratched the back of his head, steadfastly ignoring any eye contact, finding a fascinating spot on the rug to scrutinize instead. Sansa on the other hand, worriedly flitted from face to face of her family, trying to read their stony faces, worrying her lips, hoping that they came out of this alive. She was going to strangle Joffrey when this was all done and over with.

They were discovered thanks to a one, Joffrey Baratheon and the too paranoid mind of another, Tywin Lannister. All that careful planning, down the drain, just because Joff lost track of time in the studios, missing a small charity event he was supposed to attend, and Joffrey _never_ missed an event. Ever since he was young, his Grandfather had instilled in him the fear of not attending these events, and that was when Tywin Lannister threw his keen eyes in their direction. He sent one of the many P.I.s under his control to investigate, and had gathered the forces (aka the Lannister and Stark family) to come knocking on the hut with the red door in the middle of no-wheres ville.

Joffrey huffed out a breath. "I was being so careful. Who'd you send out to track us?" he spoke, finally breaking the ice, the now cool tea in everyone's mug a testament to how long they sat.

"Tsk, dear nephew, I'd thought you knew your dear Grandfather better than that," spoke Joffrey's short, short uncle, Tyrion. "For you, he'd only send the best: Little Finger."

"Petyr Baelish." Tywin spat, correcting his son of the name the P.I. despised so much, not sparing a glance towards his son, disapproval oozing from every pore.

"Oh!...oh." was Joffrey's response, turning to explain to Sansa who still looked confused as to who, exactly, ratted them out. "You know, the Pet Place Pedophile? The creeper at the pet store with the pedo-stache that was looking a little too serial killer-y at those snakes."

"What were you doing at the pet store?" asked Joff's other 'Uncle,' the infamous, Jaime.

"We wanted to get a pet to guard the house for when we aren't here."

"A guard dog?" Tyrion returned, approvingly.

"No, a goldfish."

"Enough nonsense!" Tywin bellowed out, startling everyone, "How long have you been LYING to us?" he stood up, starting to pace, looking back and forth between the two with criticism.

"Now, hold on there," was Eddard 'Ned' Stark's deep dulcet tones, as he, too, stood to calm Tywin's wrath. "These are good children and though lying is a dishonorable thing, if these two were hiding it to this extent, they must've had a good reason to. Besides, it's not like they were keeping a drug addiction under wraps or anything. They just...had a double life..."

Catelyn Stark wept into her handkerchief, back ramrod straight, shaking her head and disagreeing with her husband, choking out that she was disappointed in her daughter for hiding such a thing, to disobeying them, and setting a bad example for her young impressionable sister.

"Okay, that's it!" was Sansa's angry cry, as she rose from the table and took her own stance. "Let's all agree that Ary needs no one's influences, much less mine, to be the hellion child that she is. Not to mention how unfair it is that I'm getting all the lip from you guys when I haven't been riding around motorcycles in the middle of the night, nor joined in any gang, nor made it a habit to hang out at billiard halls, or be in a underground, punk rock, blood loving, garage band!"

Arya clapped slowly, smirking at Sansa, as she went in for the kill. "Yeah, but I didn't keep it a secret from Mom and Dad."

"Oh, for the love of! Secrets?! SECRETS?! Let's list all the other more sordid parts of your life you _have_ been keeping tucked away, shall we? Care to tell our parents' your affiliation with the Faceless Men?" was Sansa's comeback, as half of the room containing the Starks erupted in a roar, everyone trying to talk over the other.

"I do believe they've forgotten about us." Tyrion declared, from the other end of the couch, squished in between the arm rest and his siblings. "Joffrey, be a dear and fetch me a new cup of tea? I have a hunch we're to be here for a while." seeing his family's cantankerous mood, the short man called out once more. "And some snacks. People are starting to get peckish, and one should never approach negotiations on an empty stomach."

/./././././

"Mom, please. I haven't needed a baby sitter since forever, and I would like to remind everyone here that I am a grown ass man! The practice really isn't all that dangerous, and no one needs to be watching over me at the studio. Besides, it'll break my concentration if someone was watching over my shoulder and that'll be more dangerous. I can handle the occasional burn and an accidental hammer to a thumb every now and then."

"Psh, like that time you singed your arm on that clamp and cried the _whole night_?"

"Sansa, this is an A and B conversation, please _C_ you way out of it."

"Oh really mature, Joff. Way to show everyone what a 'grown man' you are indeed."

"Not all of us can be little miss perfect Stark, and that is ass man, to you! A grown _ass_ man."

/./././././

"You Starks didn't discipline your children enough and your harlot of a daughter dragged my sweet, innocent Joff into this whole mess!"

"I think you are the only one here, sweet sister, that thinks your ass of a child...," here, Tyrion turned to address his nephew. "My apologies, Joff, but the truth needed to be said."

"None taken, Uncle Tyrion, I can admit I was an ass. Still kind of am."

"Undoubtedly, but as I was saying, you're the only one who thinks your ass of a child is 'innocent'."

Tyrion bowed with a flourish, wine glass in hand still perfectly balanced, and withdrew himself from the proceedings to go join the Stark siblings in search of this alleged tree that owned itself.

"Bundle up, kids, it's getting colder now. Robb, keep an eye on Arya, and Bran, don't climb the tree when you get there and watch after Rickon." the Stark matriarch instructed her brood, as the company ambled out.

/./././././

"This whole thing is preposterous! You are the Lannister heir, and as such, you have an image to uphold, a responsibility to keep the right company around you: Not mingle with the dredges of society." thundered Tywin imperiously.

"Excuse me?! Who are you calling the 'dredges of society?' for your information, these folks are some of the most kind-hearted, welcoming people I have ever met and-"

"I wasn't talking to you young lady," cut off the older man. "I will get to you in a moment and how foolish it was for you to distract my grandson from his duties with all your frivolities."

"Do not speak to my daughter like that!" roared Ned. "Your precious grandson was as much a part of this! I certainly don't think Sansa coerced him into this lifestyle at gun point! And Joffrey's not the only one putting his future at risk here!"

"Ha! Future?! What future does she hope to squander away? She's just going to end up being some lonely wife to a husband too busy with politics. My Joffrey, on the other hand, has a real job to inherit, business to take care of, and an empire to run!"

"How dare you!"

"What?!"

"Is all this really necessary?"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP! Joff, do you hear that?" Sansa screamed.

Bewildered at the sudden turn of events and the spiraling conversation, Joff stammered out his response. "Hear what...? Oh wait, I think that's someone yelling. What's it saying?"

The duo hushed several members of their family, ignoring their indignant faces at being silenced. Cersei fumed. In all her years raising the boy, she had never been treated with such rudeness and she knew it was a mistake to betroth her son to that questionable girl, much less at his young age. Her twin on the other hand was enjoying the show, glad that he stayed back (to keep an eye on matter if it went awry, of course), never seeing his Father display that much emotion and enjoying counting the different shades of red his sister's face could reach. Though he was rather curious about this tree. He was hoping there would be future visits, seeing as how already, the small segment of the people he met were immensely entertaining, Jaime couldn't wait to meet the rest of the population.

"I still can't hear what he's yelling out." Sansa grumbled, looking questioningly at Joffrey.

"...Eating?" he suggested. "No, no. um... seating?... Oh, wait. A beating? A clown beating?"

"Oh dear, not again." she fretted, remembering that awful incident two years back. "No, I think he said meeting. Oh! A town meeting! Yup! There it is."

The two exhaled in relief that no clown was harmed, as the man yelling out the news came in with more clarity, passing by close to their house. Sansa grabbed her coat off the floor, thrown there in her haste when returning from her errand, the family there on their porch, waiting to confront them. She scooped up Joffrey's scarf discarded next to her coat and helped wrap it around his neck.

"Wait, you guys are leaving? To go to this town meeting?" was her Mother's shocked and confused question.

"Naturally," drawled the blonde, all kitted out to face the cold wind. "It's a _town_ meeting and as members of the _town_, our attendance is mandatory."

He walked out with a flourish, leaving everybody in varying degrees of shock, leaving Sansa to smooth down the ruffled feathers before the two left, most notably, that of his seething Grandfather, bristling with disdain. However, on sensing the older man's vitriol, decided to skip out all together on diplomacy and join Joffrey instead.

"Yeah, what he said, important discussions and such. Last town meeting we missed, our street got renamed Pustule Valley-Way." Sansa threw over her shoulder, grabbing the stash of candies nearby on her way out. Town meetings were like movies, and Sansa would be damned if she was to attend one without snacks. She had standards and priorities, damn it.

Among the echoes of the door slamming shut, Jaime let out a great bellow he'd been holding onto this entire time.

"And pray tell, what is so funny?" his Father intoned, voice chilly, having never been so slighted or ignored in his life.

"This! This whole town. This situation, it's surreal. I mean really, who lives in a place like this? Their neighbor's lawn is so full of gnomes, I'm convinced there's no grass under it. And, _and_ did anyone notice that the diner used to be a hardware store, but the owner hasn't taken down the sign? How would people know that they can eat there? Is it a hardware store that also sells food? Oh, and that damn tree everyone keeps talking about in the town square! Who leaves their property to a tree? _A tree_! And a clown beating?! I want to know what happened there! And here we were, yelling at each other and they just poof! Strolled out without missing a beat at the first signs of a town meeting. It's just...all so... ridiculous!" Jaime was on a roll now, stating all the ridiculous things he'd observed thus far, and he'd only been in town no less than four hours.

He was rather taken aback when the somber Stark patriarch joined his mirth, roaring out laughter from deep within his diaphragm. Seeing her usually serious husband laugh with abandon, Catelyn couldn't help but join in as well, the humor infectious.

Tywin Lannister stalked out in disgust, his daughter hot on his trails, as he formulated a way to reign Joffrey in. He cursed himself a fool for considering the Starks to be of any support in wrangling their children back in line.

/./././././

"You invited them to have Thanksgiving dinner at our place?" Sansa blurted out, flinging the batter covered whisk, splattering some on Joffrey's face.

Joffrey licked off the batter, smacking his lips in satisfaction. "Blueberries? Yum. And yeah, I was asking around after the meeting in how to smooth out the situation with the fam, and they suggested to host them here for dinner, and I thought it'd be a good chance to show them that we created a life here for ourselves. That our future is here, not on the path our parents laid out for us."

"That was a surprisingly insightful, and not the hair brained schemes the town usually comes up with. So...your _entire_ family's coming?" Sansa asked with trepidation.

"Oh _god_ no. Just the cool peeps. My Uncles, and your parents. Your siblings already had other plans with their friends." Joffrey commented, picking up the now abandoned whisk to lick the rest of the batter off.

/./././././

A/N: mew. Gearing towards the end. About a chappie and a half left. Hope y'all are still liking the story.


	6. how many mexicans can fit in that turkey

Chapter Six: How Many Mexicans Can Fit in That Turkey?

/././././

Sansa and Joffrey sat around an upturned crate atop a barrel, in Gendry's small hut tucked away behind the studio. Upon his hiring, the man had started construction of the tiny abode.

"So wait, the fam's gonna join you all in thanksgiving?" was Gendry's question as he placed the turkey on their makeshift table. "Do they know that this is your, what, fourth Thanksgiving you're attending today?"

"Nuh, uh. Third." Joff corrected. "We had turkey breakfast at Al and Gwen's this morning, went on for early brunch at Kimgela's. We had lovely Korean food. That soondubu was damn good. And we're here now, thanks for the invite, bee tee dubs and next, we're off to Rick's for his Thanksgiving special, a quick pit stop at Al's Ale, and back home to dump the turkey into the fryer."

"You're frying the turkey? Shouldn't you, I don't know, serve something a bit more classy for your family?" Jesus piped up from besides Joffrey, bumping shoulders with him, making the blonde flush. What started as Joffrey's brilliant plan to seducing the man got a wrench thrown in it when Jesus figured it out and started wooing Joffrey instead: and with a decidedly Spanish flare that was a thousand times more better and more effective than Joffrey's own. Now a days, the Baratheon always sported a bit of coloring on his cheeks, blushing like a prepubescent tween at Jesus' suave ways.

"Joff and I saw the southern Thanksgiving special on tv." supplied Sansa.

"I want to be there to see their faces when you offer the Senator and wife fried meat." Gendry stated, Jesus nodding in agreement.

"Did we forget to invite you guys? You guys are totally welcomed to crash the party, in fact, we insist upon it. Sansa disapproves, but I plan on shamelessly using the both of you to distract Mr. and Mrs. Stark from grilling us."

"Why just my parents?" Sansa exclaimed indignantly. "Won't your Uncles interrogate us as well? They came along to that disastrous confrontation with your Grandfather."

"Uh, hello. Have you met my Uncles? We all know Uncle Jaime's an unscrupulous bastard without morals. My existence proves that. He doesn't give a damn what I'm doing in my spare time. And Uncle Tyrion? Well, he's the baddest of them all. He's hella cool and is fucking proud of us for rebelling against our parents like that. Though I suspect he wished we'd joined a gang, or something like it, so we could rub it more in Grandfather's face. He's super fascinated with our town. Loves it, the two o' them."

"Fine then. I guess I'm the only one that have normal parents, concerned about our double life and what we plan to do with it." she huffed.

"That's easy. We keep it, duh." Joffrey replied, lightly lobbing spoonful of peas at Sansa's face. "When's _Sandor_ coming to join us?"

"Why'd you say his name like that?" Gendry queried in unison with Sansa.

Jesus elbowed the blonde none too gently, as Joffrey quickly tried to deny the fact that he used any sort of tone when he said the Hound's name. He completely forgot to confront Sansa on the whole secret-dating matter, forgetting about it momentarily when his family rudely interrupted their lives.

"Don't try to deny it now. You clearly said it like, like, it was a dirty, little secret..." she trailed off. "Oh. My. God. How? How do you know?!"

"Know? Know what?" Gendry asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"A-HA! So you do admit to secretly dating him! You made me go through so much to prove it! I even dressed up as a venus fly trap that one time to follow you guys! Do you know how hard it is to commission a venus fly trap disguise?! I knew it! I knew it! I was right!" he kicked back his chair to stand and do a victory lap around the barrel that served as the table.

"Yes, well, if you're quite done acting like..."

"A five year old, head less chicken?" Jesus supplied, seeing Sansa struggle for the right words.

"Yes, exactly. This is why I didn't want to tell you, because I knew you'd act this way."

" Yes...Well... I was right and you were wrong! Na na na na neener."

"I hope he's not going to be in charge of frying that turkey." Whispered Gendry to Sansa.

"Quite. Should I bring a back up dish? I can make turkey tacos just to be festive?" Jesus added.

Sansa contemplated it, watching Joffrey dance around the cozy space. "No, it should be alright. But can you bring desserts? Joff begged to make them and I didn't have the heart to say no."

/././././././

"Damn Rick and his fabulous new editions to the menu! I'm so stuuuuuuuuuuuuffed. Sansa slow dooooooowwwwwwnnnnn. You're walking too fast and my tummy's all blubby now, and the liquid inside is sloshing around!"

"Ugh, Joff. Too much info. Besides, you have no one to blame but yourself. Come on, pick up the pace. We have to get to Al's and at least partake in some bread and swipe a bowl of gravy."

Sansa stalked on ahead, uncaring that her brisk pace was leaving her companion behind, as he all but gave up and slowly collapsed, face first into the concrete sidewalk.

"Mjbhfdjtfhgkhggggggggggk" was all Joffrey could manage to mumble out, mouth pressed up against the gritty pavement.

/./././././

Joffrey surveyed their small kitchen table overflowing with food, the table groaning with its weight. The gloriously fried turkey took center stage, placed on a large, ceramic plate, surrounded by roasted brussel sprouts (obviously Sansa's idea. She thought they needed greens to balance out the fried). Traditional Thanksgiving side dishes adorned the remaining surface area, and tucked on the edge of the table lay Joffrey's other 'contribution' to the meal. (Sansa didn't even have to dissuade him from making that pie. He was too preoccupied with frying the bird that he lost track of time and she assured him that Gendry and Jesus would bring desserts. Also, they purchased a back up pie at Rick's).

"Joff, are you sure you just don't want to run out to the market real quick and get a can of-"

"Yes, I'm sure! Besides, look at it! It looks glorious!"

"I love you and don't take this the wrong way, but cranberry sauce is meant to be red...not purple... How did you even manage to do that?"

"Sheer will power. Oh look! That was the bell! Too late now!"

/./././././

Tyrion dabbed at his face with the napkin, his belt beginning to constrict his midsection.

"That was a truly, delightful meal, my dear. Fried turkey. What will they think of next."

Sansa blushed and mumbled out a thanks, pleased that the meal had went smoothly, a great contrast to their previous, disastrous family gathering. Her Father and Mother agreed as well, still tucking away at the sweet potato pie they purchased at Rick's, on their Thanksgiving extravaganza.

Things went relatively well, despite the early hiccups in the beginning, but she was positive her parents were starting to come around. The mishap earlier happened when the Lannisters and the Starks spotted Gendry upon their arrival. Ned cursed aloud, stalking closer to the boy to get a better look. Jaime reeled back, as if he'd seen a ghost, surprised to gaze upon a visage he thought was forever lost. Joffrey's father had passed a decade ago, in an unsavory situation that still upset his family when brought up. Rumor had it, he had died of a heartache, on top of his mistress, during one of their rendezvous. Tyrion stood stock still and Catelyn stared, eyes bulging.

"Hello, the bastard here. And I meant that literally. Before anyone dies of a coronary, yes, I am one of Robert's illegitimate children. Yes, I knew that already. Yes, Joff is already aware of the matter as well. In fact, I work for him. And finally, no, Jesus is not _my_ companion, but _his" _Gendry pointed at the blonde, hoping that his last comment would make everyone stop staring at him, and it succeeded. Suddenly, all the eyes that were on him, shifted, seeking out the other 'Baratheon' child.

The man in question, scratched the back of his head nervously. "We're technically not going out yet... Not internet official, as the kids call it."

Jesus spoke up over the overwhelming din and cacophony at this sudden revelation. "We might as well be, from all the making out we do at movies. I don't think I recall any of the plot of the last three films we saw. Also, you weren't out of the closet yet?"

Joffrey flushed, at this unexpected turn of events, mumbling that they were supposed to help get his family's attention off him. His brain went to auto-snark mode and choked out a rebuttal to deflect the tense energy thrumming around the group.

"Well, I guess I was going to be outed sooner or later from the closet, what with the amount of Mexicans crammed in there. What was the stereotype again? The one about the sheer number of Mexicans fitting into a single-"

"Turkey!" Gendry yelled out.

"It's cars, you racist friend of a racist. Geez, I get why you guys get along so well now." Jesus clicked his tongue, shook his head and led the rest of the company into the kitchen, leaving the two to snicker over their own joke.

/././././

"Your parents seemed pretty cool with you abandoning the plan laid out for you." spoke Joff, as soon as he closed the door on the last of the guests.

"Yeah, well, they're awesome and besides, they got my brother, Robb, following in Dad's footsteps. This isn't like the middle ages, where you had to marry off your daughter for political gain or money. And if I could keep this secret for this long from them and the media, they know I can be discreet. At least, 'til re-election time." Sansa mused, going back towards the kitchen where Gendry was digging in for round two of the leftovers. Jesus was by the sink, elbow deep in soapy water, as he and the burly bastard quipped racist jokes at each other.

Joffrey plopped into the seat next to Gnedry, grabbing the plate of pigs in a blanket and pondered aloud.

"Everything worked alright then. I was worried there for a minute, but your family's cool with it, my fam's gung-ho, I got me some fan-fucking-tastic turkey to last me a lifetime, an awesome mexican chef," Joffrey dodged the soapy sponge aimed towards his head, courtesy of Jesus. "and now, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Drop?" Sansa queried.

"You know, Murphey's Law? Things are going so well, too well, that things are bound to get all screw-y."

"Way to just jinx yourself man." Gendry spoke through a mouthful of food, elbowing Joff in the side.

"NOOOOOO! Jinx?! I did, didn't I. Quick, dude! Help un-jinx me!"

"Oh god, not this." Sansa muttered.

"What?" was all Jesus got in before the other two occupant of the room started to enthusiastically do a complicated hand shake of sort, while chanting.

"Jinx, jinx, jinx. Un-jinx, double jinx, over the loop, double back, no jinxes, un-jinx." the two finished in unison, spat in their hands and brought them back together for a final hand shake.

Jesus and Sansa's faces scrunched up in disgust as they made gagging noises, going back to what they were doing before, trying to un-see what they've just witnessed.

Joff bit into a blanket. "You think it worked?"

Gendry nodded. "Dude we did the anti-jinx. It has never failed us yet. Not even your crazy, psycho Grandpa is gonna rain on this parade."

/././././

Joffrey silently cursed Gendry and his anti-jinx method. He knew, they should've added another loop-dy loop at the end and spit into their left hand, not right. If they've done it correctly, he wouldn't have to be in this situation now: His Grandfather here, at his doorsteps once more, to no doubt, bring Joffrey back 'home.'

"Good morning, Grandfather," Joffrey mustered up his best manners (which was not much, seeing it was 8 in the morning. Who visited anyone in the crack ass of dawn? It was rude). "Do come in. Care for any refreshing beverage? Tea? Coffee?"

"This isn't a social call, boy, stop with the niceties and let's get down to business." Tywin cut in coldly, marching past his Grandson to claim a seat in the living room.

Joffrey closed the door, muttering to himself. "Oh, no. Please do barge on in. It's not rude at all. And we all know how you feel about socially misbehaving." he braced himself for whatever curveball he thought his grandfather would throw at him, and cursed out a string of words to calm his jittery nerves. He knew from past experiences, that any encounters with the man never ended well for the other party. His Grandfather always won, got the upper hand. That was how he clawed his way to the top. He was ruthless, and went to any lengths to overthrow his opponents.

/././././

"SO?! What was the ultimatum he gave you?" Sansa yelled, throwing her ice cream sundae spoon at the blonde's face.

"Mmmmm, nothing that big," He shrugged nonchalantly, handing her another spoon from the dispenser. He twirled once on his stool, grabbing onto the counter to stop himself once he made a full rotation. "He's planning on cutting me off from my inheritance, if I don't come back like a good little boy."

"...He does know, that you're kinda successful on your own and have been for a while now? That you have your own business and such?"

"Psh. Yeah, _successful_. In Tywin Lannister's eyes, if it ain't Lannister successful, then it's really not worth that much."

Sansa hummed in agreement. "So, what did you tell him?"

"I told him to fuck off, I've been living fine on my own for the past three years and that though it may not be as much as my inheritance, I was happy with what I had now and made for myself."

"Well good for you," Sansa beamed, hugging him sideways into her, while still perched atop a stool. "But I bet he didn't take that standing down."

"He threatened to crush my business, but I'd like to see him try. Didn't build my reputation up for nothin'."

Sansa giggled, happy for her friend, glad that the shoe that had dropped wasn't something that neither of them couldn't really face, or take down together. "So you did it then, you get to write your own happily ever after."

"You're one to talk. I notice you're sporting the lovely new line from Bleeding Heart Stags on your, uh, left ring finger there." Joff pointed, eyebrow raised.

She flushed and swatted at the blonde's arm. "Oh, stop. I know he got this specially commissioned, and I know that you're the one that made it."

"Busted. Gotta say though, man's got a surprisingly good sense of taste."

They both looked down at her ring, admiring the way the light glinted off the silver, content in their lives, and finished their ice cream.

"So," Sansa spoke up once more, breaking the quiet. "You broke off ties with your family?"

"Not all of them, the Uncles are a stickin' and so will the bro and sis, but yeah, the Momster and Grandpa are not gonna show. I don't think they enjoyed Ms. Christie's welcome wagon too much."

Sansa snickered. "Ok, yeah. Understandable. It was priceless, though, when we got to see your Mother's face pick up that penis shaped pasta box."

"Glorious," he agreed. "Where did she get those?"

"Oh, you didn't know? She's starting a side business with Gwen."

"Thank Sevens. What does it say about me, that this is not the weirdest thing that has happened to us here?" Joffrey asked, full of mirth.

They looked at each other, trying to contain their giggles and failed, bursting out laughing and supporting each other as they tried not to fall off their stools.

"Welcome to Winter's Hollow: population, 763. Towns people, certifiable but charming." they both chorused.

/././././

A/N: end last chapter. Up next, epilogue and I am officially dooooone! Thanks for sticking with me through the madness =) I'm working on a new fic, but it's kind of crack-tastic and I'm uncertain whether I should post it or not: It's a, uh, teen wolf and gilmore girls crossover. If there is anyone, anyone at all, that wants to read it, i'll post it... X


	7. but wait, it comes with a carousel

Epilogue: But Wait! It Comes with a Carousel.

/././././

Joffrey fiddled with his tie, trying to loosen the constricting object. Another pair of hands ghosted over his, halting his movements.

"Stop that. You're going to ruin the perfect windsor knot Sansa tied for you." Jesus commented, as he readjusted the tie back into place." He smoothed down the front of Joff's three piece suit, smiling down at the snazzily dressed man.

"I hate suits. Was it really necessary to wear this? I mean, it's just a wedding. Who really wears suits in a wedding?" scoffed the blonde, squirming around.

Jesus snickered. "You try to evade that suit again, and Sansa will have your head."

"Psh, she's lucky it's her day or I wouldn't have allowed to be dressed like a Barbie doll."

"Says the guy that enthusiastically tagged along with the wedding shopping with her." came Jesus' rebuttal.

"Yes, well. That was all relatively simple and we accomplished it all in a day."

And it was true. When Sansa had dragged Joffrey to a bridal shop to feel out some dresses, she had no ideas for the wedding, much less when they were holding the ceremony. At the only bridal store in the town, Sansa had immediately fallen in love with a lace dress on display. She approached the dress in excitement, only to find that not only was the dress on sale, it was also in her size. Being a sleeveless dress, she thought it appropriate if the wedding was in the summer, and summer meant hydrangeas, so that took care of the flowers. After the dress shop, the two stumbled upon a paper shop that had the perfect hydrangea card set for the invitations. Elated at their finds, the two headed to a nearby coffee shop to rest, spotting the picture of a beautiful church amidst fields of daffodils on the store bulletin board. Going down two blocks, the two went into enquire about the venue for a wedding. The priest told them that they most certainly could hold a wedding mid-summer and not only that, but thought the restoration of the carousel out back would be complete then as well. Sansa took this all as a sign and ecstatically went back to tell Sandor that she had finished planning their wedding in a day.

The invitations were sent, cakes tasted, and the day was upon them. Joffrey refused to be the flower girl, but he agreed to being Sansa's 'maid' of honor and Sandor's best man. Seeing as he was both's best something or other, they decided he would stand in the middle and while he was at it, he should officiate. Joffrey managed to get a certificate online.

"You boys ready?" Sansa's voice floated in from the doorway. The two men turned to see the bride in all her splendor. Her auburn hair tumbled down her back, a flower wreath pinning the veil to her head, the dress falling softly around her.

Joff smiled. "Almost. I hope you're ready for the reception 'cuz I wrote a kick ass toast."

"It better not contain a racist Mexican joke." Jesus warned, tightening the tie one last time, looking pointedly at Joff.

"Ugghhhh... I may need a smidgen more time to edit it..."

"What in Seven Hells is taking so long?" Sandor growled, his big form coming around the corner of the door.

"AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! SANDOR NO!" yelled Joff and Jesus, as they leapt to block Sandor's view of Sansa. "Don't come in! It's bad luck to see her before the ceremony you numbskull!" Joffrey added.

Sandor grumbled, already in a bad mood, having been separated from her the night before. "Stop primping yourself and hurry the fuck up, boy." He stomped down the hall, muttering.

Joff and Jesus looped each of their arms through Sansa's. "Welllllllllp. Shall we deliver you to your Father? Before the Hound starts smashing things in his withdrawal of you?" Joff cheekily said.

Sansa laughed and the trio walked out of the room (With difficulty, as it was hard to squeeze three people out a doorway with arms linked. They had to conga line it).

Jesus added as an afterthought. "So, have you guys figured out your living situation?"

The blonde answered for her instead. "Yeah, we're gonna expand the house. We love it too much for them to move out and look for a place of their own."

"_We_?" Jesus questioned. "You're gonna live with them?"

"Well, duh. It's my house too. 'sides, live with them?! I'm going with them on their honeymoon."

Jesus face palmed as Joffrey cackled the entire way.

_/./././././_

A/N: aaaaaaand this fic is complete. Hope it wasn't too cracktastic, and thanks to those who read this crazy mess of a story to the end =) much love, and on to the next one!


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